


Four Times James Wilson Heard Gregory House Play the Piano (And One Time He Didn't)

by bironic



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Piano, five things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-04
Updated: 2006-09-04
Packaged: 2017-10-03 12:37:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bironic/pseuds/bironic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Wilson heard House play the piano was also the first time he was invited to House and Stacy's apartment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Times James Wilson Heard Gregory House Play the Piano (And One Time He Didn't)

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through "No Reason."

_1\. _

The first time Wilson heard House play the piano was also the first time he was invited to House and Stacy's apartment. When they retired to the living room after dinner with a fresh bottle of wine, Wilson and Stacy sat on the sofa and House took the piano bench, playing quietly while they talked. Eventually, the conversation died down and they sipped their wine and listened to the wandering jazz melodies. Drunk on alcohol, music and good company, Wilson looked back and forth between his companions, whose eyes were locked on each other. Then Stacy sighed, closed her eyes, and relaxed back with a smile. House trained his steady gaze on him then, and for a few moments Wilson forgot to breathe.

* * *

_2\. _

In the weeks after House was discharged from the hospital, Wilson wondered whether he had given up piano-playing along with running, bowling, smiling, showering, cooking, cleaning, and saying anything remotely inoffensive to anyone. Stacy said he sometimes banged on the instrument when they argued so he couldn't hear her. Then she was gone, leaving Wilson to deal with the mess.

House had reached an equilibrium between the painkillers and depression that left him sprawled on the couch most days staring at the TV. On an afternoon visit to the apartment, elbow-deep in dishes in the neglected kitchen, Wilson was thus startled to hear music under the sounds of running water and whatever action movie House wasn't watching. The notes were tentative, stumbling, punctuated by quiet but fierce curses. Wilson lowered the tap as much as he dared and listened for his friend in the music.

* * *

_3._

Wilson had learned over the years that House used one of two singing voices when he chose to accompany himself on the piano: a subdued mutter, which flattened to a monotone when he was concentrating particularly hard on his fingering or a difficult case; and a smug, slurred warble, often complemented by comically raised eyebrows, which he hauled out when he'd cured a patient or wanted to torment someone or had gotten laid. When House was angry or frustrated or otherwise miserable, he didn't sing at all.

So when he approached House's apartment door and heard him crooning the lyrics to "Fly Me To The Moon" as he played, Wilson no longer needed to ask to know what had happened between him and Stacy.

* * *

_4._

After he'd put his suitcase down and tossed his coat over the back of a chair, Wilson slumped on the couch and drank the beer House offered. He finished three more during back-to-back reruns of _America's Next Top Model_. Near midnight, he got up with a quiet groan, rifled through his things until he found his toothbrush and t-shirt and shorts, and went into the bathroom to get ready for bed. When he came back inside, House was at the piano and there were a pillow and folded blanket where he'd been sitting.

House jerked his head at the couch as he started to play. Wilson moved the pillow to the armrest, shook out the blanket, settled in and closed his eyes. He fell asleep to the hushed chords of "Moonlight Sonata" and the soft thump of House's foot on the sustain pedal.

* * *

_5._

Wilson lets himself into House's apartment with his own key even though Cuddy gave him the set from her patient's pocket. He collects a change of clothes (House is going to be pissed about losing that t-shirt), feeds Steve, checks the fridge for food that might spoil and makes sure there aren't any urgent messages on the answering machine. Then he finds himself walking over to the piano.

He has never touched it before. He trails his fingertips along the varnish, once, twice, gently, as if the wood might buckle under his caress. He sits on the bench and skims the backs of his fingers from the upper octaves to the bass notes without pushing down. His nails click as they skip from gap to gap. He slowly presses down one of the middle keys so it doesn't make a sound, again and again. There is only the whirr of the air conditioning and Steve rustling in his cage.

Wilson stands and leaves the keyboard cover open as he found it. He picks up his keys and the pile of clothes he left by the door, and drives back to the hospital to wait for House to wake up.


End file.
